


Deeds

by the5leggedCricket



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Episode Related, M/M, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7719949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the5leggedCricket/pseuds/the5leggedCricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is coming of age, and that means he’s about to get Deeds—marks on his body telling him of his soulmate’s greatest accomplishments. But as he tries to find his soulmate, he also makes some worrying discoveries about the kind of person his soulmate is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Deeds || 契証](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12211095) by [Redslow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redslow/pseuds/Redslow)



> Many thanks to [ambrosius](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ambrosius) for the beta. I love you to pieces.  
>   
> This story is set shortly after 1x06 A Remedy to Cure All Ills.

Arthur didn’t know what he was looking forward to the most on his birthday: to finally be crowned prince, or to finally get a glimpse into the life of his soulmate. Probably the latter.  
  
He was trying not to get his hopes up too much yet. After all, no matter how proud he was of his skills as a fighter, he hadn’t really accomplished much himself so far. Yes, he’d killed that afanc, but who would even know what kind of monster that was and how hard it had been to destroy it? Or would saving his manservant be considered more impressive? Or would both count as a great accomplishment?   
  
And if he could hardly tell what deeds would appear on his soulmate’s body—or maybe already had—and if they would be impressive at all, how could he expect anything remarkable to appear on his own body?   
  
He tried not to ponder those kind of questions too much. Or to think about the deeds at all, because the more he thought about those, the harder it became to deny that they must be magical in nature.   
  
No one knew how people became each other’s soulmate; how the great deeds of their other side of the coin, so to speak, appeared on one’s body; or who or what was responsible for it… But no one ever said it out loud, least of all Uther. Because this was one thing he would be unable to defeat, and everyone who mattered knew it. The deeds simply existed, and there was no way to get rid of them.   
  
It wasn’t as if that many people knew about it anyway. Only people rich enough to have a tutor would be taught everything there was to know—which, admittedly, was little—about the deeds and what they meant. The commoners were left in the dark because few could read, so while they recognised that sometimes letters would randomly appear on their body, they were unable to decipher them. What would be the point in telling them about the deeds if they had no use for them? It would only raise questions nobody could answer.   
  
Another bout of nerves made his stomach churn and his fingertips tingle. Arthur rarely got nervous, but when he did, it was sure to make its effects known and to keep him up all night. After this, his life would never be the same. His soulmate would have left a visible mark on him, and he’d be constantly aware of it. How could one not? This was about the person he would be spending the rest of his life with. What if he woke up tomorrow and they’d accomplished nothing? What if the only noteworthy thing would be that they’d…done the dishes or something? Or had survived for this long? Gods, no, what if they weren’t even born yet? What then?   
  
He shot up straight in bed. _His soulmate may not have been born yet!_ He’d be an anomaly, a deedless abomination, if that was the case. And he’d have to wait so long for them that by the time he could get to know them he’d be _old_ .   
  
Arthur took several deep, shuddering breaths. Everything would be alright. If things like that could happen, Gaius would’ve surely warned him about them. But the deeds were most likely magic, and Gaius had given that up long ago, so he may not know either. No, Arthur was utterly alone in this. _Tomorrow you won’t be anymore. You will get your deeds and you’ll know there’s a soulmate out there, waiting for you to discover them._ He forced himself to believe it and let his body relax. Staying awake all night and stressing about a life-changing event wouldn’t help. He had to let everything just happen.   
  
~o~o~o~   
  
And things did happen, though not entirely the way Arthur would have liked. For one, his deed arrived late. Maybe not exactly late, but enough for Arthur to worry.   
  
When Merlin barged in, Arthur was still sleeping soundly. Nothing had woken him through the night, not even the stinging, painful feeling people so often talked about.   
  
After setting his tray with breakfast down on the table, Merlin approached him with a pep in his step, eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. It was impolite to ask someone about their deeds, but Merlin clearly wanted to. Arthur wasn’t even going to question how Merlin knew about them in the first place.   
  
“Rise and shine!”   
  
For once Arthur got up without protesting. His body still felt completely normal, the same as it had yesterday and even the day before that. Arthur tried not to snap at him as his nerves overtook him once more.   
  
“That’ll be all, Merlin.”   
  
Merlin’s face fell a bit, but he complied. As soon as the doors fell closed behind him, Arthur tore off his night clothes. At first glance, he saw nothing, so he began to inspect his body closer, beginning with the obvious places like his arms, chest, sides… After not even his legs showed something out of the ordinary, he walked over to his mirror. Back, neck, throat, face, that small spot behind his ears… Nothing.   
  
Disappointed, he dropped back onto his bed. Everyone’s first deed appeared exactly 18 years after they were born. Arthur didn’t know the exact time he had been born and brought into the world, but Uther had told him it had been in the morning. It should come any moment now, even though that could mean any time between now and lunch. It could even be hours away, but he hoped that it wouldn’t take that long for something to appear. His already frayed nerves wouldn’t be able to handle it.   
  
No matter how much he tried to rationalise with himself, part of him remained convinced that he would be the one exception, the freak. Arthur would end up being a deedless prince, a blemish for Camelot. Everyone would be able to tell. If he tried to pretend that he had his deed, they’d see right through him. If not his father, then surely Merlin would. He’d been his servant for no more than a couple of weeks, and already he knew so much about Arthur. Word would reach _someone_ , and rumours spread like wildfire in the castle, until eventually members of the royal council would discover, and ultimately Arthur would be shunned.   
  
Shaking his head to get rid of those doomsday thoughts, he dressed himself and went to sit at the breakfast table. Listlessly, he pushed his food around on his plate, not able to get anything in his mouth. Thoughts kept swirling through his head, showing him scenario after scenario where he somehow managed to be the one exemption, and all the ways he could fail Uther on this most important day.   
  
When Merlin came back, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to do more than wave dismissively at the table.   
  
Merlin seemed to pick up on his mood. “Were you not hungry, sire?” He looked at the table but took a step towards Arthur, one hand extended seemingly without his knowledge.   
  
Arthur opened his mouth to dismiss him, not in the mood for company and their questions he couldn’t answer, but what came out instead was a shout.   
  
Arthur’s fork tumbled to the ground, and Arthur grabbed his wrist.   
  
The skin on the palm of his hand felt like it was rippling. A sharp pain as if his skin was torn to pieces was followed by a sedating cold as he felt a tickling sensation, like the one of a quill on his hand.   
  
He released the tight grip he had on his wrist and lifted his right hand up to his face. Golden letters were sizzling before settling down, seeping into his skin and turning black. Looking closely, there was still some gold visible in the edges. _His first deed!_ He’d done it! He had a soulmate, somewhere out there, waiting for him.   
  
Arthur burst out laughing. He wouldn’t be alone anymore, and he could share the burden of his status with someone else. A _significant_ someone else. Someone he could cherish with no worries, someone that could cherish _him_ . He’d never realised how much he craved the companionship until now—now that he was sure there’d be someone in the hopefully not too distant future.   
  
Merlin joined in his laughter. For a moment, they both just stood there, beaming, alternating between looking at Arthur’s hand—still lifted up in the air—and grinning at each other. Secretly, Arthur was glad to share this moment with someone. He just felt so happy and elated that he felt like everyone should know about it. He wanted to shout it from the middle of the courtyard. He, Arthur Pendragon, had a soulmate!   
  
But who would it be? His heart stuttering, laughter dying down, Arthur finally looked at the words to decipher them. _Through conflict and pain, Uther Pendragon lives once again._ What the—?   
  
“Shall I go and bring this back to the kitchen, sire?” Merlin’s voice broke through, and Arthur understood it as the attempt it was to give him some privacy. Arthur, however, had other plans.   
  
“No, leave it and sit down. You’re having breakfast with me.”   
  
Merlin looked confused, and his open mouth made him look a bit like an idiot. Arthur had no qualms about telling him. Merlin snapped it shut and abruptly pulled back a chair and seated himself.   
  
Arthur’s hunger had returned with a vengeance, now that the nerves had made room for intrigue and excitement. He sat down at the head of the table, at Merlin’s right, and shoved his hand under Merlin’s face. “Read it. What do you think this means?”   
  
His initial incredulity at the deed being written on the palm of his hand of all places had dissipated. Already he was starting to see how this could be useful. For one, he didn’t have to pull off his trousers or something to show Merlin, he could easily stare at it all day if he felt so inclined, and well, he was already starting to imagine how nice it would look to have a good, long wank and then come all over—   
  
Merlin shifted to get a better look, and Arthur willed down the blush on his cheeks. “It doesn’t even rhyme,” he heard Merlin mutter under his breath. Arthur glared, and Merlin cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “Erm...maybe that they saved Uther’s life?”   
  
Arthur didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a close thing. “Yes, I got that. But that could be _anyone_ . When he was ill because of that sorcerer...what’s his name...Edwin, or when he was in battle, or when he, I don’t know, was dropped down the stairs or something as a child, and someone caught him..” He successfully ignored the implications of all of his examples. No way was his soulmate Gaius, who had cured Uther from Edwin’s curse; or one of his father’s knights, who fought for him time and again; or someone else his father’s age!   
  
“No, it’s the first part I’m interested in. ‘Through conflict and pain.’ What do you think that means?”   
  
Merlin scrunched his nose up, deep wrinkly lines appearing in his brow. Arthur didn’t find him adorable at all when he was thinking so hard it must make his poor brain hurt. “Maybe someone betrayed him? Or he was bleeding his guts outs?”   
  
Arthur snorted but didn’t pull his hand away. If anything, he brought it even closer to Merlin; too close, probably, for Merlin to be able to make out the words anymore. “Even _you_ can do better than that.”   
  
Merlin threw up his hands. “Maybe conflict means he was in a war with another kingdom? I don’t know, Arthur! If it’s so easy, then why don’t you give me _your_ theory?”   
  
Arthur patted Merlin’s head condescendingly. ”Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, would we?” he said before studying the words for some time. He pondered, looking at it from all possible angles. In the end, he groaned and thumped his head on the table. “Gods, my soulmate is going to be either some of the old knights or Gaius, isn’t it?”   
  
“Gaius?” Merlin exclaimed, but Arthur ignored him.   
  
“Either way, I’m fucked. My soulmate’s going to be old enough to be my father. I don’t want to be fucked, Merlin.” He grasped Merlin at the lapels of his jacket and shook him softly. ”Please, Merlin, don’t let me be fucked. Not by an old man.”   
  
Merlin’s eyes had widened alarmingly, and he looked around as if hoping someone would be nearby to rescue him. When Arthur grasped him by the chin, demanding Merlin’s full attention on the present crisis, Merlin settled on rubbing soothing circles on his back.   
  
“It’s going to be alright, Arthur. You’ll see, everything will be alright.”


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur had thought things would somehow be different. His earlier fears had been proven unfounded. He had a soulmate, who had already been born and wasn’t too young if they’d already saved his father—if anything, they were probably going to be _old_ —and for the same reason, they must be from Camelot or a neighbouring country. And yet, still nothing had changed. He didn’t all of a sudden notice this perfect man or woman he wanted to spend his life with. There was no stranger magica— _suddenly_ arriving in Camelot that just so happened to be his match made in Avalon. Because, by the gods, he did hope that his guesses were wrong and his soulmate wasn’t either a knight or _Gaius_ —who still hadn’t found his soulmate. No, he had to leave that trail of thought alone for his own sanity.   
  
He spurred on his horse and tried to enjoy the feeling of freedom that being on horseback, surrounded by trees and foliage, always gave him. Some of the tension slipped out of his body, along with a few droplets of sweat. He wiped his brow before grasping the reins again. They had to keep going. This was not a leisurely trip.   
  
It must be easy, he thought, for peasants. They were blissfully ignorant about the soulmate they might be missing out on. Or for the few literary ones, like Merlin, not to be in this position of power that scared everyone away. How was he supposed to get together with someone when they were too cowed by his authority to even dare to approach him? No, people like Merlin had it infinitely much easier.   
  
Merlin probably would literally stumble into the lap of his soulmate, some charming chambermaid or a blushing stableboy. They’d get to know each other in the privacy of their own existence, because who on earth cared about a couple of servants? Merlin might even leave Arth— Camelot if his soulmate just so happened to live in a village at the border, where he’d meet them after Arthur saved it from some terrifying enemy. And then Arthur would be stuck here, alone under the scrutiny of all the people of the court, just waiting for the crown prince to meet the person he _couldn’t_ find _because of his title of crown prince._   
  
They had arrived at the place where they’d last seen the monster and Bedivere. He slowed his horse down and put up a hand for the others. “We descend here and travel the rest on foot.”   
  
In truth, he was almost glad when Uther sent him to somewhere in the middle of the deep woods surrounding Camelot to kill the Questing Beast. It’d keep Merlin away from handsome villager boys for a little while longer. Not that he particularly cared that much about Merlin or anything, but Merlin was the only one—except for Morgana—who didn’t give a damn what lineage Arthur was a descendant of. It was refreshing.   
  
When they entered the beast’s cave, Arthur pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind to concentrate on the task at hand: kill the Questing Beast and make sure no one gets bitten.   
  
Morgana’s voice echoed in his mind. _I have seen terrible things._ Arthur ignored the feeling of unease. It wasn’t a premonition. He would get everyone out alive even if it killed him.   
  
~o~o~o~   
  
So it might nearly have killed Arthur, but still that wasn’t an excuse for all the strange things happening. Had Arthur been too close to death and gotten permanently brain-damaged without anyone telling him? Was Gaius’ potion hallucination-inducing? Or was this all a bad prank?   
  
First, he’d woken up to find his father sleeping next to his bed, clutching Arthur’s hand. Of course, Arthur had been gravely ill, according to Gaius, but the semi-public show of affection was new and a bit unreal to Arthur, who had felt as if he’d merely woken up from a nap, albeit with a very painful shoulder.   
  
Then, Gwen had entered the room, seen he was awake, gasped, and ran back out.   
  
On top of that, the next day Merlin had come in to talk to him. Arthur still wasn’t sure what Merlin had been wanting to tell him. He had been wrongfooted when Merlin went from insulting him like usual to entirely too serious and started to talk about the future and dying. His behavior had been even weirder than Arthur had gotten used to.   
  
But  all that flew right out of his head when the most unbelievable thing so far in a string of strange events happened. Arthur got a new deed. And he couldn’t even read it, because it was bloody well _on his back._   
  
He opened his door and said, “Fetch Merlin. I require his immediate assistance,” to a servant who was passing by.   
  
While he waited for Merlin to finally show up that day, he took a seat at the table and poured some water that Gwen had brought him earlier into a goblet, focusing on nothing else but the feel of the water sliding down his throat.   
  
The servant returned, still clutching the laundry she had been holding earlier, with an apologetic smile on her face. “He is nowhere to be found, sire.”   
  
Arthur waved his left hand. “You’re dismissed.”   
  
The servant left, and Arthur sighed, emptied the goblet, and got up. Maybe Gaius would know where Merlin was. If he dared say the word “tavern,” even once, Arthur was going to teach Merlin a lesson, by the Gods. Stocks would definitely be involved.   
  
Only, Gaius wasn’t in his chambers either, and Arthur was left to scour the castle for his wayward manservant _again_ . However, the castle was big, and Arthur was still injured, so he had to make a tactical retreat to his own chambers after half an hour.   
  
He sat down in his chair again and tapped with his fingers on the table. Then he got up to stand in front of his mirror, tried to lift his shirt to take a look at his deed, and nearly injured his bandaged arm in the process. So he sat down again, and reached with his other arm to rub at the spot beneath his right shoulder blade, but he couldn’t quite reach that far. He tapped some more with his fingers and considered asking someone else to read his deed for him, but it felt too private and intimate and he only trusted Merlin with a task such as this.   
  
Merlin didn’t show up at all that day, and so Arthur went to bed early, hoping like he had never hoped before that he would wake to the sounds of an insubordinate, loud manservant.   
  
~o~o~o~   
  
He did, and he flew out of bed, nearly tackling Merlin in his haste. “Merlin! Where were you? I looked everywhere!”   
  
Merlin gripped Arthur’s elbows to steady himself and flushed pink. Arthur looked down, but no, he was not naked—he had been forced to go to sleep in his day clothes, his shoulder protesting every time he tried to lift it—but they  _were_ standing rather close. Oh well, Merlin was just going to have to deal with Arthur’s morning breath; there were more important matters at hand.   
  
“Erm, I was gathering herbs with Gaius?” he said, and Arthur huffed.   
  
“You do know that you’re _my_ manservant, don’t you? You’re supposed to be at my beck and call, not play hide-and-seek every time I need you.”   
  
Merlin frowned and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s got you all riled up?”   
  
“I’m not riled up!” Arthur exclaimed, and he threw his hands in the air, wincing when the movement pulled at his shoulder. Merlin just raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Arthur gave up. He turned his back towards Merlin and crouched a little. “Just...look, okay?” he said, and scrunched his shirt up a little until Merlin got the hint and lifted it all the way up to his neck.   
  
Merlin gasped softly, and Arthur could feel his fingers tracing the words, his touch unexpectedly warm and soft.   
  
“What does it say?”   
  
“Nim—” Merlin’s voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Nimueh found her equal in the man she wronged. Killed in revenge, the power of life and death she passed on.”   
  
Wait, what?   
  
“Could you say that again, please?”   
  
Merlin did, and he even wrote it down after Arthur asked him to.   
  
_Nimueh found her equal in the man she wronged_   
_Killed in revenge, the power of life and death she passed on._   
  
Arthur had wanted to know more about his soulmate, but this was a lot of information, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about it all. His soulmate had killed someone. Or well, it was strongly implied that he had. He. His soulmate was a man, and Arthur shuddered when the elder knights and Gaius popped into his mind again.   
  
And he had fought…Nimueh? Why did that name sound so familiar? But it said that she had wronged him, so maybe he had killed her in some sort of self-defence instead of being a cold-blooded murderer.   
  
“...the power of life and death she passed on. What do you think that means?”   
  
Merlin started next to him, a crease between his brows. He rubbed his face and slumped his shoulders. “I-I don’t know, Arthur.” He wouldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes and he bit his lip, worrying on a bit of loose skin. “I gotta go. I promised Gaius that I’d help him with something,” he said, and before Arthur could remind him whose servant he actually was, Merlin had left the room, the door swinging shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur ordered Merlin to move in into the antechamber, so he would always be in the vicinity when Arthur needed him, at all times of the day. Merlin didn’t even protest that much, merely insisting that he spend a few nights a week in his chamber at Gaius’.   
  
Things had changed between them. In the days after the acquirement of his second deed, Arthur had come to realise that even though his soulmate was a man, it wasn’t Merlin. After the first deed, there had still been a tiny possibility that Merlin had accidentally saved Uther’s life without anyone knowing it, but there was no way that Merlin had killed someone. And for some reason, that realisation had come with a crushing disappointment that gutted Arthur.   
  
As a result, Arthur ordered Merlin to move in into the antechamber so he could examine Merlin and his own feelings, while at the same time trying to keep Merlin at a distance, scared of what he might find. He went back to his ‘prattish’ behaviour from when they had first met, treating Merlin like a lowly servant not worth his notice, and Merlin? He let it all happen, subdued and quiet.   
  
Arthur didn’t know what had caused the change in Merlin, but he was grateful for it. He didn’t think he’d be able to push Merlin away at all if he was met with any resistance. Because apparently somewhere in between all the insults Merlin had grown on Arthur until he’d developed into Arthur’s possibly biggest weakness. Arthur was fucked.   
  
~o~o~o~   
  
And then a way out showed up in the form of Cedric.   
  
He caught Arthur’s horse when both he and Merlin were getting up from the ground — Arthur having fallen and Merlin having let Arthur literally  _ step _ on him, and the old Merlin would have never allowed that — and Cedric showed some of the wit that Arthur had grown to love so in Merlin. He was a bit like Merlin in a lot of ways — not too subservient, confident,  _ courageous _ — but at the same time was nothing like him at all and it was exactly what Arthur needed.   
  
Perhaps Arthur needed to be strong. Maybe this was an opportunity he should take with both hands. This was a chance for him to break all ties between him and Merlin so he could focus on finding his soulmate. One day he would find the man and then there would be no room for Merlin in his life anyway. He had to get over this infatuation — and yes, that was what he had found in the last couple of weeks of studying his feelings, he was infatuated with Merlin — and clear his head so he would be ready for a life with his soulmate, a life without Merlin, when the time came.   
  
He threw Merlin out of the antechamber, told him that Cedric needed the room and that he could take care of Arthur’s needs, so it would be better anyway if Merlin went back to Gaius’ to lend him a helping hand.   
  
He expected Merlin to backlash out of the hurt so clear in his eyes, and he did —   
  
“Cedric is possessed by an evil spirit.”   
  
— in an infuriatingly Merlin-like way.   
  
Arthur understood that Merlin was envious and hurt, but it only made it clear to Arthur that they both needed some space. He called Cedric into the room so he could escort Merlin somewhere far away from him, and to his shock Merlin  _ physically assaulted  _ Cedric.   
  
Arthur had no other choice than to jail Merlin. If only he could jail his feelings as well. Although they would probably break free as easily as most criminals seemed to break out of the dungeons.   
  
~o~o~o~   
  
Arthur didn’t remember much of what happened after that. He did remember the chaos and the panic and the sense of looming defeat. He also did remember the distinct terror when Camelot, his home, was falling, right before his mind went black and all the sounds around him faded.   
  
He shouldn’t be surprised that Merlin was the one to pull him back into consciousness, though. (The amount of people that actually stayed in their cells was disconcertingly low.) Or that somehow Merlin had been proven right  _ again _ .   
  
He allowed himself to be surprised, however, when Merlin undressed him that night, and uncovered a new addition on Arthur’s abs: a third deed.   
  
Before Arthur could prompt him, Merlin read it out loud, eyes widening and face paling.   
  
_ Another sorcerer dead, this time Sigan took the fall. _ __   
_ Arthur or himself, there was never any choice at all. _ __   
__   
“At least this time it’s a proper rhyme?” Arthur offered in an attempt to cheer Merlin up, and then the meaning of the words sank in. “By the Gods, my soulmate is a serial killer.”   
  
Merlin shrank into himself, head ducked and eyes cast down, and Arthur recognised the signs of a Merlin who was about to fly away out of Arthur’s grasp. He clamped a hand around Merlin’s wrist and tugged him closer. “Wait, don’t leave.”   
  
Merlin looked up with a confused expression.   
  
Arthur drew a hand through his hair. “I… I missed talking to you about this stuff. Help me decipher this? Please?”   
  
Arthur made it a point not to use the word ‘please’ all too often, but he  __ had  just jailed Merlin for trying to warn him of a very real danger. Besides, he really wanted Merlin to stay, even if it meant putting aside his dignity for a moment, because Merlin could be quite wise, and he often had advice that would be very useful if Arthur actually listened to it.   
  
Merlin sighed and nodded once. “Okay then.”   
  
Arthur dragged him towards the table, pulling him down onto the seat beside his.   
  
“Sigan is dead, right? We’re 100% sure about that?” Arthur asked with an urgent note in his voice.   
  
“Yes, Arthur, Sigan is dead.”   
  
“So there’s absolutely no chance this means that Sigan is my soulmate?” He widened his eyes to convey the importance of the question.   
  
Merlin reeled. “Fuck no!” He grimaced and looked as disgusted as the time that Arthur had made him eat rat.   
  
Arthur relaxed. He wouldn’t have been able to handle his soulmate being an evil spirit that was so obsessed with ravens that he tried to look like one. And the whole being the incarnate of a dead sorcerer wouldn’t go over too well with his father.   
  
“So... my soulmate killed Sigan?”   
  
Merlin put his elbows on the table and wrung his hands. “Looks like it.”   
  
“That covers the first line, I think? Could you repeat the second line?”   
  
Merlin dropped his gaze to Arthur’s naked torso, letting his eyes linger as he read the second line out loud.   
  
“Arthur or himself, there was never any choice at all.”   
  
Arthur tentatively touched the black letters and Merlin snapped his face up.   
  
“What do you think that means?”   
  
Merlin bit his fingernails for a whole minute before pulling his thumb away from his mouth, a small trail of spit following until he wet his lower lip. “Erm… maybe your soulm ... ” — Merlin gulped — ”soulmate had to make a choice?”   
  
Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes. He was still trying to be nice to Merlin.   
  
“Maybe Sigan knew that he was your soulmate and threatened him?”   
  
“How would Sigan have known though? And if he had to choose, what did he sacrifice? I would know if my soulmate was dead, wouldn’t I? My deeds would disappear. I’d feel the loss. Right, Merlin?” He felt himself grow slightly hysterical again and gripped Merlin’s hands, ignoring the feel of spit against his skin.   
  
Merlin pulled his hands free and gently stroked Arthur’s fingers. “Of course you would know. I can assure you that your soulmate isn’t dead.”   
  
“Then what happened? You told me yourself that Sigan was this all-powerful sorcerer. He could’ve turned my soulmate into a toad for all I know!”   
  
Merlin firmed his strokes and they turned slightly painful, but Arthur didn’t tell him to stop. The contact was soothing.   
  
“He did not turn your soulmate into a toad, Arthur. Look, the first line said that Sigan took the fall and died, right? So your soulmate is probably this brave hero that killed Sigan to protect you.”   
  
Arthur took a deep breath and forced himself to believe Merlin’s words.   
  
“You’re probably right,” he said, but there was still some lingering doubt that rang in his voice.   
  
Merlin squeezed his hands before releasing his grip. He walked to Arthur’s bed to fetch his night shirt, and said, “Up.” Arthur obliged and stood up, lifting his arms so Merlin could put his night clothes on him. He let himself be comforted by Merlin’s presence.   
  
Merlin readied the bed for him, and Arthur got in, watching as Merlin put out the candles one by one.   
  
“Merlin?” he whispered, feeling like the sudden quiet shouldn’t be disturbed by his voice.   
  
“Yes, Arthur?” Merlin asked from where he was stood in the doorway.   
  
“Thank you,” Arthur said, and the last thing he saw before closing his eyes was the small smile on Merlin’s face.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had two ideas for this last chapter. I went with the easier option even though the other one had my preference, but, you know, laziness. And then I got so many lovely comments that I felt guilty about taking the easy way out. So I waited ages to post this because I really wanted to write the other option for you guys. But then I got into a bad mental place where I can't write at all, so I really can't postpone posting this chapter in the hopes I get over it soon and am in a place where I *can* write it. So here's the original chapter. Maybe I will write the other option someday and post it as an extra or something. Sorry for the long, pointless wait!

The horses shook their heads and trampled, making to flee from the field. They were feeling the presence of the approaching dragon, and everything was telling them to get away from the danger.   
  
Arthur scanned the sky, but it was devoid of any dragons. He wondered how far away it was if the horses could already feel its presence. Next to him, Merlin looked up too, and again Arthur was struck by awe. Here they were, a group of Camelot’s bravest knights, armoured from head to toe, trembling in their saddles. They all knew that they were going to die. A whole army had been trying to fight it for the last three days, and the only result was an almost complete decimation of said army. So what difference were twelve knights going to make? Even Arthur had accepted his fate. And yet Merlin had followed him into battle with nothing more than the thin jacket and scarf he always wore to protect himself against the dragon. He was going to follow Arthur into death. Without a moment’s thought.   
  
Merlin was brave, stupidly so, but not even Arthur had expected Merlin to face a dragon for him. For Camelot. Arthur couldn’t even begin to fathom why. No one had ever cared this much.   
  
It made his heart flutter in his chest — and it really didn’t need to be beating any faster than it already was in fear and anticipation. And yet, at the same time, his heart felt so heavy as if it could drop from his chest at any moment. Merlin would die tonight as well. Chances were that Merlin’s soulmate wasn’t of age yet. When Merlin died, his soulmate would never be branded by his deeds. Would never read the words describing the person who would have made them feel whole. They would know that they would never meet their soulmate, that they’d been too late, and that now they would spend the rest of their lives alone. No one deserved that. It must be horrible, not knowing a single thing about your soulmate.   
  
What would a deed from Merlin be like? What great things would be picked to appear on one’s body?   
  
Arthur felt a pang at never being shared that part of Merlin. He already had Merlin’s constant time and attention, but Arthur wanted his everything. However selfish it was, he was glad that if they weren’t meant to spend their lives together, at least they’d share their deaths.   
  
Arthur’s horse bristled and moved forward. Arthur tugged at the reins and looked up. The dragon was flying into view, and it looked even more majestic now. Its wings were spread wide, shielding the knights below from the moonlight.   
  
There was no time to think after that. The air was filled with fire, with the smell of burning flesh, with the sounds of horses scared to death. In less than a minute, all of his knights were either dead, dying, or unconscious. Arthur and Merlin were the only ones left standing.   
  
Merlin screamed at the dragon, attracting its unwanted attention to him.  _ Idiot. _ In an act of pure desperation, Arthur grabbed a spear and placed himself between Merlin and the dragon. If the dragon wanted to kill Merlin, it would have to go through Arthur first.   
  
The dragon drew a deep breath. This was it. Arthur wanted to look back at Merlin, but he saw a last opportunity. If his timing was perfect, they might just stand a chance. So gathering his courage and gripping the spear tighter, Arthur kept his eyes on the dragon. The moment its jaws opened up and a heat as intense as the sun’s rushed towards Arthur, he dived forwards, lept to his feet, and thrust the spear forwards.   
  
The spear breached the dragon’s scales. But before Arthur could realise his victory, something hit him with the force of a hundred horses, and his body crumpled to the ground.   
  
~o~o~o~   
  
A piercing pain brought Arthur back to consciousness. He lifted his head from the scorched grass, only to see Merlin standing as a lone survivor against the backdrop of death. He looked majestic, like an Angel of Vengeance, carrying a spear and overlooking the aftermath of a battle he should by all rights not have survived.   
  
Arthur’s hand went up to clutch his right hipbone, where the skin was being soothed and would any moment be scribbled on. Merlin’s eyes followed, but not wanting to disrespect his fallen comrades by talking about personal matters, Arthur asked, “What happened?”   
  
“You dealt him a mortal blow.” Merlin’s face was pale against the dark night, eyes reflecting the stars.   
  
“He’s gone?”   
  
“Yeah. You did it.”   
  
It was impossible. Arthur had slain a dragon. If that didn’t turn into a deed, nothing would.   
  
Arthur threw his head back, laughing, as the surrealness of the situation dawned on him. He lived. Merlin lived. Camelot would live.   
  
Nothing else mattered anymore.   
  
~o~o~o~   
  
Once they had returned to the city, victorious, and they had gone back to look for survivors, and an official report had been delivered to his father, Arthur touched Merlin’s hand.   
  
“Let’s go to my chambers. I’ve gotten something to top off our day.”   
  
Merlin blushed, but followed willingly. His blush deepened when Arthur ordered him to reveal Arthur’s hipbone, but Arthur ignored the way that had probably sounded.   
  
The black letters became visible and Merlin sucked in a sharp breath. His hand started trembling, while the rest of his body went still.   
  
“Another deed,” Arthur said. “What does it say?”   
  
Merlin didn’t reply at first, and Arthur nudged him with his knee. Merlin looked up at him with fearful eyes. Why would a deed scare him? His soulmate had already been revealed to be a serial killer, so how much worse could it really get?   
  
“Merlin?”   
  
Merlin licked his lips, and moved his focus back to Arthur’s hipbone. Eventually, he talked, his voice so soft that Arthur had to strain to make out the words.   
  
“Camelot is safe from the last of dragonkind. The Lord has made it so forever.”   
  
Arthur was confused. “Come again?”   
  
Merlin did not repeat it. Instead he stood up and put some distance between them. He looked guilty.   
  
“Unless I am my own soulmate, Merlin” —Merlin shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes—”you’ve got some explaining to do.”   
  
Merlin hung his head, avoiding all eye contact with Arthur. When no answer was forthcoming, Arthur pointed towards a chair at the table. “Sit.”   
  
Merlin shuffled towards the chair, all the while scratching his wrists and biting his lip, never once looking at Arthur.   
  
Arthur took the seat opposite him. “Look at me.”   
  
Merlin looked at his nose.   
  
“I was under the impression that I had defeated the dragon.”   
  
Merlin blinked rapidly.   
  
“Only you, me, and Leon survived the attack in the first place. I know for a fact that you are not a lord, and Leon was too unconscious to go about slaying dragons.” Arthur was still not sure what had happened; he needed time to put the pieces together, but Merlin needed to give him all of the pieces first. His head and heart hurt. “Is my soulmate dead, Merlin?”   
  
Merlin’s head gave a tiny shake. Arthur sighed in relief.   
  
“Was there someone else on the field?”   
  
Merlin whispered, “No.”   
  
“So my soulmate is either you or Leon?” Arthur stood up, pacing his room. His hands tangled his hair, and his toes squirmed in his boots. He was so close to finding his soulmate.   
  
It could be Leon—old enough to have been Arthur’s knight when he first became a squire, but not on the other side of an unbridgeable age gap—whom Arthur had a deep respect for, but no love. Who had the skills to fight a dragon, but who had been nowhere in sight when Arthur had made his final leap at the dragon.   
  
Or it could be Merlin. Merlin, who’d trip over his own feet and knock himself unconscious even without a dragon in the vicinity. Who had no fighting skills whatsoever, and certainly wasn’t a murderer. Merlin, who was courageous enough to save people, but wasn’t in a position to do so. Merlin, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone kill multiple people. Merlin, whom Arthur highly regarded, and deeply loved.   
  
“Merlin, are you my soulmate?”   
  
Merlin’s nod was short, but life-changing. Arthur ran over to him and scooped him up into a hug. Merlin’s arms found their way to Arthur’s back, and Arthur buried his nose into Merlin’s neck, nudging the scarf of the day aside slightly.   
  
For several moments they stood there, breathing in each other’s smell. Then Merlin’s shoulders began shaking in earnest, and something wet Arthur’s neck.   
  
“A-Arthur. I have magic. Only for you, I swear.”   
  
Arthur closed his eyes and tightened his arms. Of course Merlin had magic. How else would he defeat a powerful sorcerer and a dragon?   
  
The last piece of the puzzle slid into place and Arthur was surprised at how not surprised he was at the result.   
  
It all just made so much damn sense.   
  
“I’ll protect your secret. I’ll protect  _ you _ ,” Arthur whispered, lips moving along the shell of Merlin’s ear.   
  
If anything it made Merlin cry harder.   
  
Arthur picked up Merlin and carried him towards the bed, laying him on top of the sheets. He crawled next to Merlin, drew the bed curtains closed, and curled around Merlin, stroking his hair.   
  
“I love you,” he mouthed against Merlin’s cheek.   
  
Arthur could deal with Merlin’s magic, with the secrets that they already shared between them and the ones that would come. Now he could deal with everything, because at last he was no longer alone.


End file.
